Once Upon a Timon - ENGLISH

Appendix 1: Road in the desert

Note:

This writing and the next one are actually part of the Volume 1 of One-shots of my main fanfic (Lian's Story). But, since neither the One-shots or the fic are translated into English, I decided to attach this chapter and the next one here so you can read them since they talk about characters that appear in this story. They both take place after chapter 10 and, since they are not part of the original story, I will leave them here as a couple of "appendix".

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The sun had not yet finished appearing on the horizon when Timon and Pumbaa arrived in the desert. It was a relief for both of them to know that they could walk for a few hours before the heat became unbearable. Although not even the burns that this could cause them would ever hurt as much as the news with which they had woken up that morning. Kopa, the young prince, the son of his friend, the cub he had helped raise, was dead.

The journey back to the kingdom seemed eternal in that desert. They were both grateful for that because, although no one had said it out loud yet, neither wanted to arrive.

Timon walked in front of Pumbaa. He was hugging himself as if he was cold even though the sun's rays fell directly on his body. He kept his head up, avoiding making eye contact with Pumbaa. One after one, fat tears rolled from his eyes to his chin. He was crying quietly so his friend wouldn't find out, and he was discreet even when he had to wipe his tears.

Pumbaa did not say anything. A few minutes ago, he had realized the state of his friend, but he was aware of the other things Timon was going through and he was not sure how to act. After all, he was crying as well.

He thought about Pride Rock, and how much he actually missed being there. His mind launched a suggestive image into the future of what their arrival would be like. For a split second, he imagined Simba welcoming them, and Kopa running to hug them. Just a fraction of a second, because immediately after he remembered the reasons for their trip.

He felt his heart squeeze, and his spirits slammed back to the ground.

How different would be what awaited them upon arrival!

Pumbaa approached the meerkat then, and with that last thing in mind, he risked bringing it up. When they reached his destination, he would not have another chance to do so.

"I'm so sorry... about Tesma."

Timon wiped the tears from his cheeks and cleared his throat a little.

"It's okay. It's no one's fault," he faked a smile. "I guess... I'm not for her."

"You love her?"

There was no answer. The meerkat stared straight ahead and sighed.

"She knows it?" Pumbaa insisted.

"Yes, since we were children. But it doesn't matter anymore. Now is in the past."

The sun was beginning to gain energy and the heat was already noticeable in the environment, and it was not a good idea to let midday arrive with them still walking among the sand dunes.

Then the meerkat had a doubt.

"How about you?" he asked. "You already know my story, but you never told me about yours. Did you have family before we met?"

Pumbaa was silent.

Of course he had a family. But that had been a long, long time before he met Timon. The warthog had a wonderful memory. Magnificent. And dreadful.

It was not difficult for him to remember that childhood that he had had to live. His mother was a pretty warthog who lived for him. She watched over him day and night from any danger, and there was nothing Pumbaa liked more than spending time with his mom. Since they lived traveling through the jungle, he did not know many other warthogs. His mother was all he had.